


Dusk into Dawn

by larvitar23



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Hand Job, Incest, One Shot, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Revelation, Throne Sex, this is trashy af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 02:10:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8082586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larvitar23/pseuds/larvitar23
Summary: In the dark of the throne room, two royals discuss the future for their kingdoms and reconcile with their suppressed feelings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This could've been a sweet, platonic scene between two characters, but |__( - - )__| throne sex, man. 
> 
> I've tagged this under Incest just in case, because non-biological sibs are a real thing that exists.

The throne room was less frigid than Xander expected. In the calm silence of dusk, the vibrancy of the throne itself was muted. The Nohrian prince, soon to be king, walked with a tentative step, the sense of dread still haunting his memory. Stripped of his armor, Xander felt vulnerable. It had been long since he’d entered the room without some form of protection. Now, with his dull purple shirt, with a small v-cut at the collar, and his dark grey pantaloons, Xander could feel the floating dust brush past his skin.

The air was stuffy, having been closed off ever since the battle against Garon. The prince looked up to the dusk dragon, whose tendrils sprawled along the ceiling like shifting shadows. Even without eyes, the dragon held a certain imminence, so that its blind gaze became much too heavy for Xander to bear.

Does the Dusk Dragon forsake him? This was the thought which filled the prince’s mind upon facing the empty throne of the late king—his father. The arm of the throne felt hot under Xander’s touch; with no windows to let in light, the prince pondered if Garon’s rage had been imbued into the chair’s onyx mettle.

“Xander? What are you doing here?”

The suddenness of the voice startled the prince. Taking a moment to shrug off his alarm, he turned to see a worried Corrin. Dressed down in a long white nightgown, Corrin’s hair shimmered in the dim light.

“Little princess,” started Xander. He’d hoped that by this hour his siblings and comrades would be deep in slumber. Worse yet, it was Corrin that’d found him. In light of everything that happened, the prince wished for Corrin to be able to carry on, without the shackles of grief or guilt. She deserved the world for all the troubles she suffered. “Please disregard me. I had trouble sleeping, so I came here to think. Don’t fret on me.”

Corrin carefully closed the door behind her, and then stepped further into the throne room. Her arms tucked themselves at her waist as she peered through the darkness. Even in this dusk, Xander could see the heaviness of memory in the way her eyes scoured the desolate space.

“Well, let me think with you. I’m a bit troubled, myself.”

The prince raised a brow. “Are you? What ails you, sister?”

The Vallan princess looked down at her feet. Her skin looked pale against the crimson rug below it, and for a moment reminded her of a river of blood. Corrin bit her tongue, tasting the steely zinc of her wound.

“I’ve been thinking of the future. Overthinking it, perhaps.”

Xander waited as Corrin took a moment to find the words she needed. It brought back nostalgia of their younger days—the little princess was initially timid, having been locked away in a castle her entire life. In her first few interactions with Xander, Corrin was often lacking in words to converse with him. When Xander began to train the princess in the art of combat, Corrin steadily became better at speaking clearly, and her shyness transformed into an embracement of social interaction. Seeing her revert to old habits unsettled the prince. Without thinking, Xander palm gripped around the end of the throne’s arm.

“I suppose,” continued Corrin, “I’ve just been afraid of what’s to come. I’m to be the queen of Valla, and yet I can’t help but fear that the Vallans will reject me. My dragon’s blood…is more potent than other royals.”

Xander hummed low, gentle as to be almost inaudible.

“I can understand your concern. For my part, I find that your character will affirm the trust of your subjects. You’ve acted bravely and nobly; they are sure to see that.”  
Corrin countenance was grim as she looked up to the Dusk Dragon. She contemplated the beast’s icy stare, which shone like roughed diamonds in the body of night. “Wasn’t Anankos the same way? Nobility can quickly morph into cruelty, as was in his case.”

Without a second thought, Xander reached out to Corrin, his hand gentle as it cupped her shoulder. The tenderness of the touch swiftly brought the princess’ attention back to the prince’s eyes. As always, the soft calm of his gaze offset the grimace that often plagued his complexion, the only way to truly see beyond Xander’s steely exterior.

  
“Corrin, when you chose to disband from Nohr that day on the plains, I was truly devastated. Our siblings, as well as myself, in some form or another felt betrayed by your decision. I had tried to let go of my sadness by giving in to my anger—I tried to put you out of my mind as a sister, to regard you as the criminal I’d thought you were.”

Corrin looked down from Xander, her eyes heavy with guilt. The prince gently squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

“But when it came down to it, I still cared for you. We all did. Even in our anger, our conflicted interests, our love and trust in you won out. We came to recognize that you hadn’t abandoned us—you were fighting for us, and for Hoshido. In our hearts, we never abandoned you. Anankos thought he was betrayed, and so betrayed his people in turn. Our trust makes all the difference.”

Though she tried to keep composure, a few stray tears streaked across Corrin’s cheeks. She reached to her shoulder, and placed her frail palm over Xander’s own. The prince wiped away her tears with his free hand. The tears were warm against his fingertips, and upon brushing her cheek warmth spread within his chest.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” said Corrin. She smiled gently, and with the tears staining her cheeks, her countenance seemed ethereal. Her voice, as she spoke, held hints of a sigh, the sort that one unconsciously makes when entering a hot spring. “You sell yourself short, brother. You know just what to say—important for a king, don’t you think?”

  
Xander exchanged a smile of his own, wistfulness pinching the corners of his lips. “Now what makes you say that?”

“Becoming king…you were thinking about father, weren’t you?”

The princess smoothed her thumb along the back of Xander’s palm. Without thinking, the prince tucked her wayward locks back behind her ear, let his hand fall back to his side. He slid his other hand from Corrin’s, turning back towards the Nohrian throne.

“I know it wasn’t him. Yet still it haunts me. I have…doubts.”

“About what?” asked Corrin.

“Same as you: I fear the hatred of my subjects, of the Dusk Dragon. That I’ve lost their trust.”

“Nonsense!”

The passion of Corrin’s voice broke the prince out of stupor.

“Nohr’s been suffering for so long under the war. You more than anyone know that. Our people can hope again—they have the chance to rebuild, to live in the peaceful world we always dreamed of. Besides that, you aren’t alone in this. You, me, and all of our friends helped to make this happen; if we’ve done wrong, it’s on all of our heads.”

Xander chuckled. “That’s not a comforting thought.”

“You see? I’m not as well versed in speech.” Corrin giggled, turning her stone back and forth between her fingertips. She walked over to her brother, stood at the foot of the throne. She brushed off the dust which coated the seat of the pedestal. “Let’s conquer our fears, brother.”

“Pardon?”

“We should sit at the throne. See what it’s like.”

Hesistation trembled below the prince’s words. “That’s treasonous.”

“Is it?” asked Corrin in earnest. “Is there a rule against soon-to-be monarchs from trying out their thrones?”

“…Not that I know of.”

Corrin held the arm of the chair, fingers tracing the intricate patterns, before seating herself at one side of the chair. She took a deep breath as she peered out over the scape before her. With all its finery and elegance, the room itself was sparse. With no windows, the princess could felt isolated, trapped within a hidden world. Xander, too, saw a similar vision: that of his late father, his spirit looking out from the puppet of his body as a malevolent omniscience commanded his children into enacting Anankos’ scheme. How heinous it must have been, Xander thought. The rage he’d felt before, embalmed into the metal of the throne, was perhaps, he realized, not directed towards him. It was a fury of loss, the anger that comes with the desecration of the body and the self. Xander looked over to his sister, how straight her back was as she sat in Garon’s throne.

The princess felt her brother’s gaze. She looked up to him, mischievous and serene. “Would you like to sit with me?”

“I’d love to, but I’m afraid there isn’t enough room.”

The princess hopped out from the seat. She held out a hand to the now-empty spot.

Xander smiled, stepping in Corrin’s direction. As he sat, he leaned his back against the headboard. His legs were slack against either side of the arm rests, so that there was some room between them.

“If I may,” said Corrin. It was less a question and more a statement of fact, as the Vallan sat between her brother’s legs without a hint of shyness.

If Xander was startled, it hadn’t shown in his expression. His fingers merely curled around the arm rest as Corrin’s hips grazed his thighs. In the few seconds of looking at her back, the prince was entranced by the wrinkles of her nightgown, and could see her naked, supple skin hidden underneath. Then, with the chivalry of a saint, he looked away to peer over her shoulder. Beyond it, the floating dust danced in the dusk. The Dusk Dragon seemed to look on with approval, though that might’ve been in part from Xander’s imagination.

“Not so intimidating, isn’t it?” said Corrin. Though she was facing forward, Xander could hear her words, which cut through the air like a crisp breeze. The prince felt the subtle shifts of her body as she breathed; the way their ankles met, how her skin rolled along her back with every inhale…

“Brother?”

“Corrin,” he said, “have you thought about marriage?”

There was pause in the Vallan’s voice. At the brief shiver of her shoulders, the prince overcame his urge to warm them with his hands.

“Mm, you mean in general?”

“Yes, little princess. You’ll need an heir to take over someday.”

Corrin smoothed her hair over to one side. From his view, Xander could make out her nimble hands as they twisted the ends of her locks into a braid. His eyes inadvertently shifted between her braiding and the back of her neck, the usually hidden nape which shone like fading moonlight.

“I haven’t, really. You’d think that I would, considering what’s to come…I suppose I’ve been trying not to ponder on it.”

Xander made a low hum in reply. The question of ‘why’ was at the tip of his tongue, but the prince thought better of it.

“What about you, brother?”

Oh, of course. He really should’ve expected that.

“It’s been on my mind, along with other duties. I’ll need to arrange some banquets in the future, else negotiate with neighboring lands about a political partnership.”  
“What kind of person do you imagine?”

“Hmm?”

“The queen. What sort of person do you want to marry?”

The prince leaned his head upon the headboard. He looked up at the Dusk Dragon looking above them. 'Gods give me strength.'

“I haven’t thought about that yet.”

Corrin stopped playing with her hair. She leaned forward in her seat, causing her hips to once again brush his thighs. Once again, his fingers winced.

“Well, imagine it. Pretend you’re having a banquet. All the ladies across the land have arrived to gain your favor. Their clothes are spectacles, each lady dressed in dazzling gowns, beautiful kimonos. As you dance with each of them, you make small talk. You join them in partaking some wine, and admiring the cuisine of our staff. At the end of the night, what sort of lady would make the best impression on you?”

Xander closed his eyes. He envisioned the bright, golden room. Elise would no doubt be chatting away with their guests, her laugh a chiming bell across the room. Camilla would make her appearance known—she’d flitter between drinking and talking, all the while analyzing each and every lady she came across, evaluating their character. Though ultimately Camilla would respect his choice regardless, his sister would in all probability give her insight as to who’d best match him. She cared too much for him and his siblings to do no less. His younger brother wasn’t the sort to participate in aimless mingling, so Xander imagined the second prince keeping things in check, making sure everything ran smoothly.

As for Corrin…she would in likelihood not attend, tending to her own kingdom. Nevertheless, Xander imagined her there. He saw her walking into the hall, eyes aglow as she takes in the decorations and the splendor of the event. What sort of dress? A blue one, he thinks, with the bottom trailing out like a mermaid fin. Corrin would try to maintain some royal presence, but to no avail: upon reuniting with her siblings—Elise flinging to her side, Camilla smiling with her wine glass as she walked over, and Leo brimming from afar—the former princess would be elated, her smile brighter than the lanterns hung above. Xander would eventually make his way to Corrin, and upon greeting her…  
He shook off his trail of thought.

“I suppose she’d be a compassionate woman,” started Xander. “someone who held herself with grace, and was a confident leader in her own right.”

Corrin let out a soft laugh. “That could apply to anyone, Xander.”

“I’m thinking of you.”

The words slipped from his tongue before he could catch them. He uttered them with a hint of frustration, a hint of yearning. As soon as he spoke, he bit down on his tongue. He turned away in astonishment, feeling the rhythm of his heart quickening. 'What the devil is wrong with me?'

“I-I see,” replied Corrin. The shakiness of her speech put the prince further into disarray. How could he have tarnished their bond in such a way? Regardless of her true family origin, Corrin was still his sister. Any romantic feelings he developed late in his life were not to be enacted.

“Xander…I lied before. I’ve had thoughts about marriage as well.”

Corrin paused before going on with her confession.

“I’ve been in love with someone ever since I was a child. He was always supporting me, ever patient, even when he had no reason to be. I learned so much from him, and as I grew older my admiration of him grew stronger, until I came to recognize my feelings as love. I remember that on nights where I couldn’t sleep, I’d listen to the sounds of him practicing his swordmanship—he was always hard at work, trying to better himself—and eventually I’d fall asleep.”

The prince felt his breaths get shallow. He turned back to see Corrin, her face looking behind her. Her cheeks were still flushed, but now it was for a different reason. Her eyes drifted to the floor. She couldn’t face him directly, lest she turn tomato red.

“I’m thinking of you, too.”

The two royals took a moment to breath. Their bodies instinctively moved closer together, until their lips met each other.

It was a chaste kiss, yet the yearning behind it was passionate. When they broke contact, they looked at one another, uncertain. The prince peered in awe at Corrin’s lips, which now were slick, glistening. He murmured her name before initiating another kiss. This time, their tongues swiped along each other, the princess turning her head so that she felt more of her lover’s mouth.

Corrin reached down to grasp Xander’s thigh. Using it as a tether, she began to engross herself further in their caresses. The prince sighed from the contact. He placed his own hand down to the curve of Corrin’s waist. The soft cotton of the nightgown bunched up between his fingers, and the prince relished feeling the warmth of his lover’s skin underneath. With a soft push on her back, Xander guided the princess closer, their bodies soon flush against each other. The prince thrilled at feeling Corrin’s breasts against him, their softness like waves in rhythm of their kisses. Upon her knee feeling the bump of his groin, a shiver of pleasure jolted through the princess. She moaned softly against Xander’s mouth, the prince pecking the circumference of her lips.

“You’re hard,” she whispered. Surprise and pleasure tinted her words. Xander looked on at his lover’s expression, her eyes closed tight as she basked in the sensations of his hidden cock against her. His other hand reached to her right cheek, guiding it to one side. He turned to her ear, his mouth sucking at the sensitive skin around it before speaking.

“And you, little princess?”

The prince felt the edge of Corrin’s grin. She took the hand at her waist and led it down near her knees. There was a moment of hesitation before taking Xander’s hand under her nightgown. She placed a couple of his fingers near her vulva. The prince felt the soft hair against his wrist, then a supple wetness. Xander gently curled his fingertips closer inside. A wave of pleasure rippled across Corrin, arching her back at the prince’s touch.

“Corrin,” groaned Xander. He felt for his lover’s clitoris, taking his time bathe in the pleasure of feeling inside her. Corrin did all she could to keep her moans to a minimum; she didn’t wish anyone to walk in on them. However, at the feeling of Xander circling the bud of her clitoris, a small, low whine escaped from her lips. She leaned forward into his touch, her hips rolling the prince’s fingers further into her arousal. Xander’s lower body pulsed with yearning as he watched his lover bask at his touch. “You’re so beautiful, Corrin.”

The princess only managed to choke out his name. She gasped as she felt his fingers leave her body. Corrin softly pleaded him to re-enter; she wanted him to understand the depth of her love, to feel how long she’s dreamed of him wanting her this way.

“Just wait,” he whispered. Xander grasped the end of Corrin’s nightgown. With her permission, he lifted the gown up over her head. The dress flopped to the floor, just below the throne’s edge. Kneeled before him, Corrin’s body glowed in the dark of the room. Her breasts were pert, her stomach smooth as marble. Xander trailed his lips down her faint hairline to the snowy locks above her vulva. He took in the arousing scent of it, his kisses sending shivers up through Corrin. The prince led her carefully off the seat before stripping himself of his nightwear.

Sitting naked at the edge of the throne, the prince looked up at his lover. Corrin’s eyes drifted down Xander’s body, lingering at each part of him with awe and adoration. The sight of her lover’s cock, fully erect, the way Xander eyed her with smoldering lust, set her lower body aflame with arousal. The prince held out his hand, called her name.  
The princess stepped forward to the foot of the throne. She took her lover’s hand, their fingers intertwined.

“Do you want this, my love?”

“Yes,” said Corrin, followed by a soft laugh. “I want it as much as you do.”

Xander looked sheepishly towards Corrin, a rare instance for the royal.

“I’d like to try out the throne, if you don’t mind,” said Corrin. Her voice was light and playful. She turned around and, letting go of Xander’s hand, felt for his thighs as she positioned herself over the prince’s lap. Xander held her hips, guiding them carefully towards him until he was in position to enter her.

“Ah, Xander,” gasped Corrin, “I love you so much.”

Xander’s mind went in a haze. Overjoyed to hear his lover’s words, the prince lovingly squeezed her side. Then, with a grunt, Xander began to lead his cock into her vagina.  
Corrin bit her lip at the initial static of pain. As she felt the head of the cock edge deeper inside, the ache was soon replaced by a rising tide of pleasure. She began to draw long breaths, hoping to let the sensations linger within herself.

The two lovers shared a groan as Xander was completely inside her, Corrin nearly flush along the prince’s body.

“You’re so warm,” whispered the prince.

“Xander. Please take me.”

Xander let out a husky sigh, his breath brushing the small of Corrin’s back.

“Little princess,” he murmured, his tone low and voracious. He began to move, guiding her gently up and down his shaft.

The princess concealed her moans behind closed lips; she held onto either side of the throne’s arms to support Xander’s penetration. Her hips rolled with each thrust, Corrin grinding herself on Xander’s lap upon each interval. The closest Corrin let herself go was in the breathy gasps. Her eyes closed, she rode against the prince’s cock, her head hung low, her hair parting of either side of her along her neck.

Xander watched as his lover dance on top of him. He reveled in the sensual contortions of Corrin’s spine—how the trailing vertebrae undulated under the skin. It reminded him of the dragons drawn in books, with ribbon-like bodies folding unto themselves, bending to the will of the wind. The wind, mused the prince, does everything in its power to keep the dragon afloat—a natural phenomenon for a mystical one.

“Gods, I love you, Corrin.”

Xander rested his forehead against Corrin’s mid-back. One of his palms snaked up from the princess’ hip to the round of her breast. He gently clutched her breast in his hand; he teased her nipple, his fingertips encircling her areola. Corrin caught a gasp in her throat. She whispered her lover’s name, feeling herself closer to the edge.

Xander quickened his pace. Corrin bobbed up and down his shaft, sweat streaking down her stomach, her breasts wet and soft under the prince’s touch.

“I’m close,” said the prince, his voice hoarse.

“Come into me. Ah, Xander!”

Xander grunted in consent. He watched as his cock thrusted into her, the slick sounds of their friction further arousing him. Upon feeling Corrin’s rippling pleasure of climax, the enrapturing heat of her wet cunt, the prince let himself go. He let out a husky moan against his lover’s back as he came. Corrin’s thighs squeezed, feeling the prince release himself inside her. Her head tilted to the side, sighing with contentment at the spreading warmth of Xander’s seed.

Neither of the lovers wished to pull out first. They let the waves of their lust settle down with each slowing breath, until finally the adrenaline leveled off. Corrin lifted herself out before settling herself back into Xander’s lap. Turned to the side of the throne, her toes twitched at the coolness of the pedestal; she leaned her head against Xander’s chest, felt the faint palpitations of his steady heartbeat. Her arms wrapped around the prince’s torso in a snug embrace. A small smile crept along Xander’s lips—he leaned his head up the princess’, and with his free arm held Corrin from her mid-back.

“What now?” Corrin murmured. The prince felt the subtle strokes of Corrin’s lashes against his shoulder. Looking down onto his lover, Xander took in the worry which settled into her eyes, the plum-red irises heavy with thought.

“Hold my hand, little princess.”

The Vallan royal consented, her palm meeting Xanders between their torsos. Corrin’s melodic hum resounded the room as the prince interwove his fingers with hers.  
“First, we can get back our nightclothes. Then, with much discretion, we’ll return into our bed chambers.”

Corrin closed her eyes. For a brief moment, she squeezed her lover’s hand, a gentle, pleading touch. “We will sleep soundly, and are roused awake by the morning light.”  
“Dressed for the day, we’ll join our siblings and friends at breakfast--"

“Yes, Jakob’s infamous coffee, perhaps some toast, sausages, eggs…no doubt Felicia will break a cup or two.”

Xander chuckled. “Yes, it’ll be a scrumptious feast. Well deserved, with all of our travel and battles. Then, I’ll call for everyone’s attention—I’d be prepared to make an announcement.”

The princess looked up towards her prince, her lips pursed in restraint. Was it too much too hope or is he…

“I’d make a toast to the prosperity of our kingdoms: Nohr, Hoshido, and Valla alike. Then,” said Xander, his voice lilting, eager, “I’ll propose an engagement between Nohr and Valla. To mend the wounds wrought by the war, the two rulers will help one another to rebuild our kingdoms.”

Corrin guided their entwined palms between her breasts. The quick flutters of the princess’ heart reverberated from Xander’s fingertips.

“It’s a lovely story,” Corrin mused.

“I was hoping you’d like it,” Xander replied. “I wish to make many more stories with you, little princess.”

Flustered, the princess smiled down unto their joined hands before looking back to her prince, teary-eyed.

“Nothing would make me happier, my love.”

The prince’s hand parted Corrin’s; his fingertips brushed away the rogue tears threatening to trail her cheeks. Corrin leaned into Xander’s touch, the prince cradling her head as she lingered in the prince’s palm.

The early light of dawn glimmered through the cracks of the doorway. Two silhouettes, man and woman, sit together upon the throne. The embraced shadows lean in for a kiss, the lines drawn between them dissipated into the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering how no one else in the castle heard them fucking around, i haven't a clue. Thanks for reading~!  
> \--  
> "Attention, everyone, I'd like to make a toast--"
> 
> "No, we got it bro, you're with Corrin."
> 
> "What? Leo, how did you--"
> 
> *grabs Xander by the shirt* "WE. KNOW. BRO."


End file.
